The Hufflepuff Information Theory
by H Bregalad
Summary: How small a sliver of information would it take to totally change the plot of each book?
**Disclaimer: All praise and honor to JKR, who made the universe in seven books.**

 **Author's note: I've had pieces of this clutter kicking around in my head for ages, a couple months ago I noticed a theme and let them crystallize together. I'm sure there are better little snapshots that would short circuit much of the tension much earlier, but these felt like the most obvious pieces of information that should have been shared and the moments of least resistance for them to have made the transfer from mind to mind.**

 **A little bit of information sharing goes a long way**

-=-1-=-

"So Quirienious, where are you headed for the Hols?"

"The muggles in Albania are talking about changing their government, I'd like to see what they're up to. The forms of governments that muggles invent are always so interesting."

"Oh?"

"Yes, in Albania they've been using what is called a Communist system, but it has had some problems. There is talk of reforms, but there is also talk of replacing it with a system more like some of their neighbours. I'd like to see first hand how well the people and the country itself has been faring under the old system, so that when the new system, or new reforms have been finished I'll have a better idea how much of an improvement they actually make."

"Ah, I see. Are you going alone, or with a group?"

"Alone, but I do have a local contact who will arrange for a local guide."

"Ah, Good. I've heard rather frightening things from my horticulture contacts in that area."

"What do you mean?"

"Just … dark shadows gathering in the forest. Vague rumours, just … if you venture into the wilderness, watch out for vashta narada and similar things."

"Dear me. Yes, of course! Maybe I'll just forgo the wilderness this trip, it's not exactly what I'm going there to observe."

-=-2-=-

"Good afternoon, miss… Weasley wasn't it?"

"Yes, Professor."

"What can I do for you?"

"I think I'm in trouble, and … well my Mum thinks you're pretty smart."

"Well of course I am, a perceptive woman, your mother."

"And anyway, I have this … diary."

"Oh, dear terrible confessions time is it?"

"I … how do you … never mind. Just … when I write in it, I often black out, and people say they see me doing things that I don't remember. Does that sound like … it's possessing me or something."

"Wait a bit, you say it's … not _your_ diary?"

"Yes, Professor. It was folded up in one of your books when … When you gave them to Harry Potter and he gave them to me."

"Oh, ho ho, I knew there was something familiar about you. Harry Potter gave you my books did he."

"Yes, Professor."

"But you say this was folded up in one of them?"

"Yes, Professor,"

"Well, it's not something I've seen before, but if it's capable of possessing people, then you've brought it to the right place. I'll make sure it gets investigated properly, and as soon as possible."

"Thanks, Professor."

"Think nothing of it, just doing my job, Professor of _Defence Against the Dark Arts_."

"Of course Professor."

…

"So who are you?"

"I am the diary of Tom Marvolo Riddle, Who are you?"

"I am Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, at your service."

"Yes, I'm sure you are, but thanks for saying so, makes things so much easier."

"Say what?"

"Did you ever figure out the curse on the Defence professorship."

"What's this. Surely you don't believe that old wives tale?"

"Why wouldn't I, I set the beautiful thing."

"Ah! Then maybe I _should_ try to track it down!"

"Ha! Maybe you should."

"Before I go, I've one more question."

"I'll bet you do!"

"What are you exactly?"

"Why a memory of course, what else would be in a diary."

"Quite right, quite right, should have figured that out."

…

"So… Tom Riddle, is almost certainly you-know-who. And for some reason he left a memory in a book of all places. It possessed that little girl often enough for her to suspect. It possessed me at least one of the times I tried to lure it into doing so. Luckily I'm a dab hand at memory erasure. The only question is, what more do I need to know before I put the finishing touches on, _Vying with Voldemort_.

"No, I think this is everything, more of a short story really, perhaps as the first in a short story collection.

"Obliviate!"

-=- 3 & 4 -=-

"Let me get this straight, Mr. Potter," said Professor Snape, "You stopped those two," he made a face, "Animals, from killing your friend's rat."

"They're not animals," said Harry, "One is an animagus and one suffers from Lycanthropy."

"Never mind that. _Why_ did you stop them?"

"There was a prophecy," said Harry.

Professor Snape and Headmaster Dumbledore sat up straight, "Say again?"

"Professor Trelawney, this afternoon. She said, '…' I didn't understand it at the time, but it must have meant that he would get away anyway, even if they did try to kill him."

"Perhaps," said Professor Snape, "perhaps it could have been any other death eater. Or the servant of any other dark lord."

"Yes, but …" said Harry, "but since he did escape, and since he is prophesied to find him, and since we do know who he is, can't we track him and find the Dark Lord that way?"

"Are you so eager for a showdown, you arrogant boy?"

"Not exactly," said Harry, "But I'm sure Dumbledore knows several people who are."

"Ah!" said Dumbledore, "Perhaps I do."

… … …

"So what do you have, Alistor?" said Dumbledore.

"The kid's instincts were good, he's found his boss and reported in. You-know-who's currently a hormunculus."

"And you … haven't disposed of him yet?"

"I'm not a fool!" said Alistor Moody, that house is warded six ways from Sunday, I only barely managed to get my eavesdropping equipment through the wards into one of the rooms, unfortunately they tend to use a different room for making plans in."

"So … what do you have?"

"Have you heard of a ritual that goes: 'bone of the father, unknowingly bequeathed, you will resurrect your son?'"

Headmaster Dumbledore twitched up slightly, "Yes, I've run across it twice looking for ways that he might try to come back."

"And you never thought to tell me about it, but never mind, I've removed all the bones from the whole graveyard that have any chance of being his ancestors."

"Oh?"

"And replaced them with various animal bones, mostly cow or pig, and one zebra, all are laced with a potion confounder, such as boomslang faeces, a magical toxin such as bubotubor puss, a muggle neurotoxin, and a muggle psychotic or anti-psychotic or both, such as lithium, or LSD."

"What effect do you expect from that?"

"I don't know, but as random as possible and as hard to diagnose as possible."

"I … see."

"I'd put all of them under partial transfiguration, if I could, but that requires constant enough monitoring that they'd be sure to notice."

"Yes, I see."

"I also overheard a plot involving polyjuice, my stunned body, and the defence against the dark arts position here at Hogwarts. Let me go on record as saying I am not amused."

"Do what now?"

So he explained.

He also explained his thoughts on the subject.

…

"So what you're saying is," said Harry, "If I fail to compete, the person who put my name in the goblet loses their magic?"

"Yes,"

"Sounds like a fitting punishment to me," said Harry.

"The problem is, the moment they figure it out, they'll come after you, if you die that also gets them out of the contract."

"Great so … then I'll have _two_ dark wizards after me?"

"Probably, and one of them inside Hogwarts."

Just like first year. Harry blinked, "I guess I'd better compete then. At least until you catch them?"

…

"Do you think we ought to test the portkey on the goblet one more time before the task?" said the fake Moody.

"Not a bad idea," said Snape. And just as the fake Moody turned away he stunned him in the back. "So good an idea," said Snape, "I think I'll tell it to the Headmaster."

-=-5-=-

"I just had a nightmare that Sirius Black is being held prisoner at the ministry."

"Nice," said Ron.

"By Voldemort."

"Oh," said Ron, "So you're going to floo call him and make sure he's still home in bed?"

"I guess _,_ " said Harry, "If I wasn't convinced that a certain someone is monitoring all our floo calls."

"Oh, right," said Ron.

"Maybe … Oh! He gave me a magic mirror to call him with."

"Nice one," said Ron, "Must be nice having rich relatives."

"You mean like Malfoy?"

"I guess."

"Never mind, Ron, just never mind." … "Here it is." Ahem, "Sirius Black!"

… "What's up Pup?"

"Are you at home?"

"Yup, you planning on visiting? How did you break out of Dumbles' little juvi penitentiary?"

"Umm, what?"

"Did you already break out of school or are you only making plans at this point?"

"Back up, do you have any plans to go to the ministry tonight… or in the near future?"

"No, pup, I still have a price on my head, you remember that part, right?"

"Yeah, … I just had a bad dream. I was _sure_ it was from Voldemort."

"Maybe it was," said Sirius, "but if so, it may mean he's aware of the link and can lie to you through it. Which means it's no longer useful for eavesdropping and you might as well board it up."

"Yeah, I guess. Do you have any ideas how to do that?"

Sirius shrugged, "Your Dad and I taught each other, I didn't realise you hadn't broken into that part of the restricted section yet, I'd have taught you over the summer."

"Hmm,"

"I thought Dumbles was getting you lessons."

"With Snape, who hates my guts, for no useful reason."

"Oh … How is old Snivilous? These days?"

Harry sighed, "have you really not outgrown using these nicknames yet?"

Sirius blinked, then shrugged, then stood up straight and looked disturbingly like Mr. Malfoy, or Mr. Crouch Sr. "I'm sorry, I will attempt to model proper civilised behaviour if that is what you prefer?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "I don't know about that, but quit it with the bullying is all."

"Ah, alright."

-=-6-=-

"Damn, Malfoy, are you _crying_?"

"Get out of here Potter."

"Not until you tell me who or what made my cousin cry and whether there is anything I can do about it."

"No, there is nothing you can do about it." … "Are you really claiming me for your cousin now?"

"Have I ever not?"

"When your friends bullied me in first and second year would have been a good time to be more vocal about it."

"Hmm," said Harry, "I distinctly remember you starting it most of the time."

"I always kept it merely verbal," said Malfoy.

Harry's mouth dropped open, after several seconds he closed it and continued contemplating, after a few more seconds he opened it again, "Interesting distinction, I probably should have noticed that. … I believe some gryffindors consider … some physical assaults to be the lesser evil when compared to many verbal assaults."

"Oh," said Malfoy, "I probably should have noticed that."

"So," said Harry, "do you need me to go physically assault someone so that you can keep your reputation clean?"

Malfoy sneered, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to kill either the headmaster or both Voldemort and my Aunt?"

"I'd rather leave them alone and have them leave me alone, but my life seems to have been dictated from day one by the fact that that doesn't seem to be an option allowed me."

"Sounds bloody familiar." Said Malfoy, "what are you planning on doing about it."

"I've heard Australia is pretty this time of year."

"Merlin," said Malfoy, "I thought you were the Gryffindor,"

"I am," said Harry, "but if it's not my battle, why in Merlin's name should I be charging into it."

"Oh," said Malfoy, "You know you're going to be a peer when you're of age."

"Peer like peer or peer like… I probably won't unless Mr. Black dies before then and doesn't leave an heir. Or dozens of claimants, which better fits the reputation he thinks he has."

Malfoy blinked, "I'm not talking about the House of Black, I'm talking about the House of Potter."

Potter waved him off, "No way,"

"Who has been keeping you under a rock?"

"Umm, Dumbledore I guess. He's been telling me it's for my protection to live with my relatives, but they don't let me read anything from the magical world when I'm in their house."

"Umm how does the headmaster have the right to— Oh!"

"What?"

"And he's your magical guardian?"

"I've heard so, though I've never figured out how to ask for proof."

"Fine, well get to that in a minute."

Malfoy scratched his temple. "Ok," said Malfoy, "fine, _Now_ I can kill him for moral reasons rather than just strategic reasons."

"Who?" said Potter.

"The headmaster," said Malfoy.

"The hell?" said Potter.

"Apparently he's a seven times the blight on the face of wizarding society than I ever realised."

"You're going to have to back up and catch me up on a few things."

"Plenty of time for that when Dumbledore is dead."

"Umm," said Harry, "Why bother? He's dying anyway."

"Oh, from what?"

"Some curse or other, turned his hand black and dried it up, I still don't understand why cutting it off and growing a new one isn't a good choice."

Draco blinked, "How long does he have to live?"

"I don't know exactly, I got the feeling it's between six months and a year."

"The dark lord will be pleased to hear that."

"Maybe," said Potter, "Are you going to tell him?"

"It might get him off my back to … off him myself."

"Oh,"

"And like you said, it's not my war either though I suppose it might be when I turn seventeen."

"Hmm," said Potter, "I still think that if I could save my friends and even a fraction of my parent's gold, I'd be alright with not seeing England again."

Draco frowned for several seconds, "How much of England have you actually seen?"

"Little Winging, some of London, Diagon ally, Hogwarts and Hogsmead. A ugly section of beach and a little island when it was raining to hard to see anything a different section of ugly beach and a mountain cave, when it was too dark to see anything, and a graveyard in little Hangleton, likewise at dusk."

"Have you seen your parents house … or their graves in Godric's Hollow?"

"No."

"Merlin and Merlin's Albion, what is wrong with … with this world?"

"Umm…"

"Alright," said Draco, "I have some strings to pull. I'll get back to you."

"Umm…"

Draco marched out.

"Apparently he's feeling better, but … he never did tell me what's wrong or rather what brought it to a head to made him start crying _today_."

-=-7-=-

"Draco, is _this_ Harry Potter?"

"You mean my instrument for killing The Dark Lord Dumbledore? Yes, that's him."

"What!?" said Hermione

"I thought you killed him Draco."

"I did, but by explaining to my cousin the exact state of the world. Which was a long and tedious process. And then urging him to be discreet, and patient."

"Yet, he's still hanging out with this Mudblood…"

"Hey now," said Harry, "There's no call for—"

Slap, "Silencio,"

"Now then, you think we should hold them here for Our Lord or not."

"Nah, he's already on a secret mission of some sort, trying to earn his dark mark, I think he just needed to borrow the library for a couple hours and then leave again," said Draco, "That sound about right Harry?" … "Oh let him talk already."

"I … cannot confirm but will not deny any of what you just said."

Hermione snickered.

"What about the mudblood?"

"Her supposed status as a muggleborn is excellent cover," smirked Harry.

Hermione punched his arm.

"Ow, and any facts about her _real_ blood status she will probably neither confirm nor deny…" said Harry.

"Ah!"

Hermione punched him again, but not as hard.

…

"Is he dead?"

A head of frizzy curly black hair appeared in the edge of his vision and his pulse was checked.

"Don't nod or blink, just squeeze my hand once for yes, twice for no. Do you understand?"

Harry didn't move.

"Little second cousin," hissed Bellatrix a bit louder, "I wasn't instructed how we were supposed to play this scene, what am I supposed to answer?"

Harry squeezed her her hand, once.

She sighed and brushed her hand over his eyes, then arranged his hands on his chest with his wand in them, just like Dumbledore. Then she stood up and turned away.

"Is he dead?"

"Yes."

The army marched.

…

Bellatrix sat at the edge of the scene of the recent battle watching the wounded being cared for and the dead being lined up and catalogued. "So Little Harry, do you have anything interesting line up after this?"

"Not really," said Harry, "Probably I'll sit around reading law and figuring out how to be an auror, until I catch another Dark Lord making any of my cousins cry."

"Hmm," said Bellatrix glancing at him, and trying a legilimency probe. Harry didn't even try to block it, just directed it places he wanted.

"And I'm half a Black," said Harry, "so I have a _lot_ of cousins."

Bella's eyes flashed and she grinned, "We do don't we." A pause, "More than half of wizarding Britain probably."

"Perhaps,"

"But how did you survive the killing curse?"

"The first time? Maybe a sacrificial ritual performed by my mother, maybe I was too young for it to work on yet. This last time? Maybe by being a horcrux, maybe by being the Master of Death."

"But that's just a bedtime story."

"Is it?"

"It's not?"

Harry shrugged, and stroked the wand in his hand, the one he still thought of as 'Dumbledore's'

"Well, Master of Death, Do you want a sidekick for your adventures avenging half of Wizarding Britain?"

Harry blinked and realised that her loyalty might pass by an algorithm remarkably similar to that of the wand.

"Perhaps."

"Can I try the stone?"

"It is said to be a fractured mirror, intended to drive those who use it to suicide."

"How did you get it?"

"Dumbledore bequeathed it to me, probably hoping to help me to commit suicide."

"Which you figured out?"

"Which I figured out, but only after his plan worked."

"Oh. You … might not be slytherin enough."

"I am content with the way I am."

"Hmm. Likewise." she said.

-=- Fin -=-


End file.
